Chapter 82: Cannibalism

The moment the mystical beast appeared, the twelve divine beasts formed from the statues froze in place. The cultivators who had been fleeing their pursuit finally breathed a sigh of relief—but their respite was fleeting, for the mystical beast made its move.

Behind it, nine fox tails, alive and sentient, unfurled and soared through the air with the ferocity of true dragons. They could shrink or expand, grow thick or thin at will. When enormous, they swept dozens of cultivators into their gaping maws in a single gulp; when slender, they devoured their prey slowly, drawing them in with the languid patience of a python swallowing its prey. In just a few days, these tails had consumed many cultivators, becoming especially sleek and lustrous, even reflecting halos of light.

The nine tails whipped through the air like vast whips, cracking with thunderous force. The cultivators before the palace, terrified beyond reason, scattered in panic, dashing in any direction they could find—like obedient sheep driven by a shepherd’s lash, herded toward the palace itself.

The mystical beast even freed its hands to claim the great cauldron and the primordial pills within, storing them inside its own mind’s palace. With the tails now unoccupied, it swept up the twelve divine beasts as well, sealing them in the mind’s palace to subdue the cauldron.

The primordial pills, which had just burst forth from the cauldron in the form of shifting illusions, were immediately cowed by the power of the twelve divine beasts.

The mystical beast then transformed into human form—a handsome youth.

"I have waited one million two hundred thousand years for this moment," he murmured, gazing at the palace.

Before his eyes, the vast palace shrank and shifted, resolving into five great clusters of halls, nested one within another, forming a celestial domain. This domain was linked by a surging heavenly river, winding in nine great bends, creating yet another vast realm—a world within a world.

This was the legacy of Wei Yan: the Five Luminaries and the Golden Core.

Long ago, after the Thunder Ancestor had dismembered Wei Yan’s body, he boiled the head and limbs in five cauldrons, and refined the torso into his own palace.

Three thousand years ago, a cultivator had stumbled into this place. Intent on seizing Wei Yan’s Golden Core, he found himself unable to claim it without a proper ritual vessel and settled for taking the heart instead.

Now, three millennia later, the mystical beast had seen a vessel capable of containing Wei Yan’s body, and knew at once that its long-awaited opportunity had finally come.

Wave after wave of people were herded into the palace. The long-silent halls now echoed with noise and commotion. In the unseen currents, the Five Luminaries revived, and tendrils burst forth from the celestial river—shimmering like scattered jade, tumbling down in a cloud-like waterfall to sweep up the cultivators below.

In an instant, these cultivators were drained to parchment-thin husks, nothing of them left but empty skins. The Five Luminaries, having absorbed a little essence, grew more lustrous, and the palace, pieced together from the remnants, began to shift in every direction.

Xuzhong, within the palace, noticed none of this. He was wholly preoccupied with escape.

He darted forward with the Seven Stars Step, his movement swift as a meteor, yet the pursuers behind him showed no sign of relenting.

Suddenly, with a long howl, a figure appeared behind him, moving at astonishing speed—within the span of three breaths, the gap between them had shrunk to a single pace.

Suppressing his panic, Xuzhong manipulated the Cloud-Swallowing Sword in concert with the Violet Jade Gourd, unleashing a barrage of icy sword light. Tens of thousands of sword beams erupted, surging like a torrential downpour toward the approaching cultivator and his fellows.

As the sword light blazed forth, some latent power within the palace seemed to respond. Instantly, its force multiplied, striking with far more than its usual might.

Xuzhong glanced down at his storage pouch; the surge came from the round cauldron within, and the feedback grew steadily stronger, pushing his abilities beyond the limits of his current realm.

A thunderous boom echoed out.

The foremost pursuer was caught by the sword light and, with a soft pop, was reduced to a cloud of blood mist. The others leaped and twisted, dodging with agility and spells; some, nimble as butterflies, evaded the deadly light and appeared right before Xuzhong.

One struck out with a palm.

In the instant palm met sword, their moves shifted through a dozen variations. Xuzhong stabbed twelve times; his opponent answered with twelve palms.

The river of sword energy raged, its waves rising higher and higher, battering the attacking cultivator again and again.

That cultivator, surging with power, cast spells with both hands. His arms, long and powerful, radiated a unique pressure as he unleashed a series of palms and seals that stirred the air like a dragon’s roar. With each move, dragon-shaped shadows rolled behind him, stilling the tumultuous waves with every strike.

His cultivation was formidable—clearly a practitioner of the True Essence Realm. Were it not for the unique power of the palace, these exchanges would have been enough to kill Xuzhong outright.

Their clash was swift. After the brief exchange, both retreated, their robes fluttering as they eyed each other warily, waiting for the first sign of a fatal mistake.

Moments later, the cultivator let out a piercing cry. His power surged from the Fire Luminary to the Metal Luminary, brimming with the sharpness of pure yang and refined metal. Ripples of void energy spread outward. Xuzhong met the attack with a single thrust, shattering the assault and unleashing hundreds of sword blossoms, followed by a torrent of sword energy.

The cultivator redirected his energy, but the next instant, he was struck by a Jade Scepter, his mind blanking for a heartbeat. When he recovered, Xuzhong’s sword was already at his brow, its gleaming tip like a blazing sun.

Caught off guard, the cultivator was pierced between the eyes. The sword energy entered his mind’s palace, annihilating his soul. His body, shredded by the sword’s force, dissolved into drifting rain of blood.

With two foes slain in rapid succession, Xuzhong found that his internal power had not diminished but increased. The cauldron within his pouch seethed with spiritual energy, pouring it into him without end.

But the others could not see this. They imagined that each exertion left Xuzhong closer to exhaustion, and so attacked him with renewed determination, unleashing talismans, sword techniques, spells, and treasures. In this narrow corridor, myriad shadows flashed, a thousand blossoms of force swirling through the air.

Yet Xuzhong only fought more fiercely. Amid the blood and carnage, his swordsmanship began to transform, as did his sword heart and intent. In a single instant, his sword energy doubled in strength; with one strike, he could summon the starlit river for six hundred miles, sweeping away all in his path.

By now, the long corridor had come to an end. Ahead lay a palace—a celestial domain.

From this palace, a torrent of surging water spilled forth, suspended in the void like a hanging waterfall, rushing from sky to earth. Above the cataract swirled a strange, metallic aura.

Xuzhong stood at the corridor’s threshold, gasping for breath. Though his internal power was undiminished, fatigue was beginning to weigh on him.

His sword dripped with blood, his gaze sharp with killing intent. The three-colored water lotus and six-foot pearl floated above his head, shielding him, while the Violet Jade Gourd behind him pulsed with sword energy. As he stood there, none dared approach.

He drew upon the mighty waters to replenish his Water Luminary, nourishing his kidneys. In an instant, all fatigue was swept away, replaced by boundless vigor.

At that moment, a cultivator roared, “He may be fierce, but I am fiercer still!” He leaped from the corridor, his aura billowing as his sleeve swelled with power. He too wielded a longsword, striding forward with a cold gaze fixed on Xuzhong.

Xuzhong met his eyes and, with a flick of the Cloud-Swallowing Sword, unleashed a flurry of sword light—like a blizzard filling the heavens, cutting through the world itself. Even a True Essence cultivator might not withstand such force.

The opposing cultivator was a master swordsman. With a single slash, he parted the sword light, but the moment his blade touched Xuzhong’s, he sensed something amiss.

Beneath the river of sword energy lurked a hidden current—wild and surging, it pierced his blade, traveled up his arm, and flooded his meridians with irresistible force.

He spat a mouthful of blood, formed a seal with his left hand, and summoned a gale imbued with sword energy, which coalesced into a colossal blade spinning toward Xuzhong’s head.

At the same time, he struggled to dispel the invading sword energy within.

But Xuzhong would not let such an opportunity slip. Gathering his power, he formed seals with both hands, summoning a golden protective light, then seized the round cauldron and charged forward.

The water lotus, six-foot pearl, and primordial water shield deflected the sword-wind. Meanwhile, his Seven Stars Step shifted ceaselessly beneath him, and in no time he was upon his foe.

The swordsman’s face filled with horror—he had not expected Xuzhong to summon three defensive treasures in succession, rendering his attacks useless. He had not yet purged the sword energy from within when Xuzhong brought the cauldron down in a savage arc toward his head.

He could not avoid a blow to the head, but managed to interpose his sword elsewhere.

With a thunderous crash, the swordsman cried out, blood spurting from his mouth as he and his sword were flung backward. The onlookers behind him hastily scattered.

His sword was broken in half.

So, too, was the swordsman—cleaved at the waist. Yet he clung to life, though his meridians were shattered and his organs bleeding.

Just before hitting the ground, he produced a miraculous pill that could revive the dead and knit flesh to bone. Threads of healing sealed his wound, fusing his lower body, as he gathered his broken sword and activated a wind-riding talisman.

A mighty wind swept him up, bearing him aloft.

But just as he rose, a colossal tendril plunged down from above, opening a maw bristling with barbs. It swallowed him whole, chewed a moment, and spat out a shriveled, lifeless skin.

Then the tendril grew eyes, fixed upon the other cultivators, and lashed out to snatch more. Those too slow to escape were devoured in the blink of an eye, reduced to empty husks.

More and more tendrils sprouted from the corridor walls, growing with the wind, killing all they met. With every soul consumed, they grew thicker and more terrifying.

In that instant, terror seized the hearts of all.

Xuzhong felt the same dread, but at the corridor’s end, he saw what was happening and leapt into the palace ahead.